


Smile That Won't Go Down

by TopClassFool



Category: RedLetterMedia RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, B-Movie References, HitB verse, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Wedding, Star Trek References, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2019-04-22 01:33:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14297850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TopClassFool/pseuds/TopClassFool
Summary: Mike was too late to stop the wedding and has to watch Jay and Plinkett live in marital bliss. But is it all as happy as it seems?





	1. In the Name of

**Author's Note:**

> One day I will get over The Wedding but alas, today is not that day... sorry.
> 
> This is entirely set in the world of Half in the Bag and is in no way repesentative of real life peoples.
> 
> Enjoy... ?

“You may now kiss.”

 

“I object!” Mike threw himself into the small chapel room just in time to see Jay and Plinkett lean in towards one another, lips puckered to meet one another.

 

“Mike?!” His interruption pulled the pair away from one another. Jay's shock morphing quickly to anger.

 

The officiate turned his head from each of the men, scowling in confusion. “The wedding is done, you're kind of too late to object to anything.”

 

“What!” This couldn't be possible, it couldn't have happened already.

 

“Uh, I said you're, uh, you're a bit too late.” The bald man gestured between a still seething Jay and a seemingly vacant Plinkett. “These guys are legally married, now.”

 

“What?!” 

 

Jay took Plinkett's hand, the glint of gold catching the light on their entwined hands. They were actually married. “We’re married now, Mike.”

 

“What, wasn’t there any drama or extraneous reasons why you couldn't be married?”

 

“What could possibly have come up?” Plinkett murmured, his old face twisted in vomit-inducing happiness. “What were you expecting, a long lost relative of mine coming to break up the wedding by exposing a hideous affair I was having with some volcanic deity?”

 

“Pfft, no.” Mike shook his head, trying to rid thoughts of Plinkett's ageing body writhing in coital bliss. “That sounds like a terrible plot line that ultimately leads nowhere. Just like anything produced by Max Landis.”

 

Mike smirked and waited but the laugh he was anticipating didn't arrive. Instead Jay was throwing him a glare.

 

“You're too late Mike,” He was still uncharacteristically angry. “I read your pre-nup and I can't believe you'd try and fuck me over like that. I'm in love with Harry, we're going to start living a life together.”

 

“Well that's were you're wrong!” He pulled out his trump card, his gay pheromone trump card. “It was all about the gay pheromones in the all the cake you idiots have been eating.”

 

“What are you talking about?” Plinkett scowled. Possibly. He was so old and wrinkled, Mike had always struggled to make out the minutiae of some of his facial expressions. “I don't know nothing about no gay pheromones.”

 

“You idiot Mike, those things don't actually work.” Jay grabbed the packaging from his hands and showing him the ingredients. “They just add that sticker to appeal to a wider audience, much like the Asian actors in the new Star Wars movies.”

 

“What?! They don't work?” There it was in small italics. *The Gay Pheromones in this product are not enough to make someone fall into gay love.

 

So there it was in black and white, damn gay pheromones wouldn't work. But if the gay pheromones didn't work in the cakes then...

 

“You actually fell in love with Plinkett?!” Jay had willingly and truthfully entered into a relationship with the old bastard.

 

“Yes Mike, of course I did.” Jay was looking at his new husband with weird mushy heart eyes. Mike felt sick. 

 

“You can't be fucking serious.” The world had certainly shifted a good few degrees on its axis. Mike had been planning on letting them get married and wait for the checks to be cashed into his bank account. Everything would have been golden. He wouldn't have minded sharing the money with Jay a little so they could still watch movies and drink beer together. Now he wasn't going to get a cent and Jay was definitely pretty angry with him. He kind of didn't have a pot to piss in.

 

“Fuck you, Mike.” Jay stood tall, well as tall as a boy child such as he could. “Me and Harry are married now, you can't get in the way anymore. Come on, my love.”

 

“After you Mr. Plinkett.” Plinkett said, a seedy creep laugh as he leered at the younger man. The revulsion in Mike amplified as he watched the pair leave the small chapel. The Plinketts.

 

“So uh, gay pheromones huh?” The dweeby officiate said, a notepad and pen appearing from his pocket. A hungry look of curiosity.

 

“You wanna know the whole story?” The man nodded and Mike sighed deeply. He could at least scam this guy out of some drinks if he wanted to know everything so much. It might make even begin to make sense to Mike as to how Jay had clearly gone delusional. “You buy me a drink and I'll tell you all about it.”

 

***

 

“So Plinkett's house went from the bottom of Lake Michigan to floating around in the sky to being on Mount Everest via a hot air balloon filled with the old codger's gas?” The pen was flying across the pages. Somehow the guy had already filled one up and had to dig out his spare emergency notepad.

 

“Yeah, it took forever...” Mike was getting a little hazy, he couldn't really remember how long they had been there for or how many beers he'd guzzled. Somehow it never seemed like enough.

 

“And what, you and Jay just decided to go up Mount Everest, the tallest mountain on planet Earth to scam a guy out of a couple of bucks?”

 

“Woah, not just a couple but like a fuck tonne of cash.”

 

“And this was Jay's idea?”

 

“No, Jay doesn't really come up with ideas unless the plot, I mean unless we need to get out of some trouble quickly.”

 

“Right, so you told Jay to follow you up a mountain to carry on with your dumb as shit plan and he just went along with it?” The writing had halted somewhat, the guy's eyes wide in question.

 

“Well yeah, Jay always goes along with whatever.”

 

“And he didn't have a problem with your plan to fake marry Mr Plinkett before he ended up falling in love with him and marrying him for real?”

 

“Well, he wasn't pleased but yeah, he was going to go along with it.” Mike slouched further into his seat, his fingers picking at the bottle label in agitation. “I just don't get why fell in love, I mean, you could smell him right?”

 

“Old Plinkett?” His nose wrinkled in disdain. “Yeah, it was disgusting. He smelt like an old cabbage that had been crapped on.”

 

“Right? And Jay could do better, he's not terribly ugly.”

 

“Yeah, he's real cute with that beard.”

 

“I just don't get it.” Mike drank down the rest of his beer and shook his head. Shaun or George or whatever the fuck his name was, was already motioning the bartender for more. “Plinkett is rude, obnoxious, hateful and a complete slob. Jay shouldn't even trust him, he's got to be up to no good.”

 

“And he should trust you?” Bald guy was scowling at him now, Mike got the impression that he wasn't very impressed. His scribblings had petered out. “You got him to enter into a fake gay marriage, tried to fleece him of any money he would have gotten and Plinkett's the one he shouldn't trust?”

 

“Well, yeah... I don't understand what you're implying.”

 

“Plinkett is obnoxious and hateful and a complete slob?” He looked Mike up and down, his distaste visibly growing. “You know you just described yourself, right? I don't think Jay is deluded, I think he clearly has a type and I feel sorry for the guy.”

 

The pens and pads disappeared from the bar, a couple of hundreds hitting the surface in their stead. “You have a couple more on me, then try and get some help Mike. You clearly need it.” The bald guy sloped off muttering to himself about scripts and target markets.

 

What did that guy know? Mike wasn't hateful or obnoxious and he definitely wasn't a slob. Fuck that guy. He knocked back the fresh bottle, the beer helping to block out the utter shit the guy had hurled. He wiped his sleeve across his chin and scooped up the fallen money. Fuck the bill, he was going back to Milwaukee and he was going to forget about the disastrous day.

 

***

 

Nearly two weeks had passed since the wedding and it had been largely quiet around Mike. There hadn't been anyone coming into the shop. The only people Mike had seen were the guys at the liquor store and the pizza delivery kid. If he hadn't had old episodes of Next Gen to cheer him up, he wasn't sure what he would have done. He'd had to go and watch Black Panther on his own and he hated that he hadn't had the chance to express his views on it.

 

He missed Jay. Or maybe it was just the company. It had been an awful long time since he'd spent even a few days without the other man around, it was strange to not hear his voice or his laughter, not see his goofy smile or his stupidly quaffed hair.

 

Goddamn was he bored shitless. Mike was spending actual time fixing VCRs during work hours. Granted he was still drinking on the clock too but he’d gotten far more done in the last few weeks that he had in the past seven years. He felt strange, like nothing was really normal and he wasn’t really there. Mike imagined it was how Picard felt when he was suddenly alone in his thoughts after his ties to the Borg were cut. Jay wasn’t like the Collective per say but not having the usual chatter around was quite isolating. 

 

Jay had messaged Mike mid-week to let him know he'd be back in work on Monday and Mike was genuinely looking forward to it. He was excited to show Jay some of the smaller changes he'd made to the shop as well as his plans for more larger improvements and hoped the man wasn’t going to be too pissy with him.

 

Traipsing into the store a little after ten, Mike was half whistling a tune that had woken him up on the alarm clock radio when the sight of a familiar man met him at the counter.

 

“Jay!” A genuine smile came to Mike's face for the first time in days, a rush of near giddiness hitting him.

 

“Hey, Mike.” Jay graced him with a small smile. He looked well. A light bronze alighted his skin, his eyes were bright and he exuded a relaxed air. Jay was happy, even Mike could see that and he looked all the better for it.

 

“Enjoy the honeymoon?” 

 

“We did, it was wonderful.” A slight frown creased Jay's brow. “Listen, Mike I don't care about what you did. To be honest I should have expected it but I want to make it clear that you have to accept that me and Harry are married now.”

 

The barb stung more than it should have, particularly as Jay should have expected it from him, but seeing Jay so happy made any argument Mike had disappear. 

 

“Whatever you say, Jay.” Jay peered at him a little suspiciously and Mike tried to make his face appear as earnest as he could. “Really, I don’t give a shit. Have you seen any good movies lately?”

 

The smile broke out once more and before Mike knew it they were back to goofing off and chatting just as they always had. If Mike’s eyes followed the gold band around Jay's finger whenever he gestured, it was simply because it was something Mike was going to have to get used to. 

 

It was new and different and definitely weird. But things just went on as they always had. They drank, they watched movies, they talked about them and the didn't get any work done. The only difference came when Jay would just leave the shop for Plinkett's house at the end of every day instead of his dumpy apartment and really Mike hadn't given a crap before about where Jay went after work.

 

It really only became strange one day when Jay invited Mike back to Plinkett's for a movie night. The usually dirt pile of a room was clean, the new crate of beer they had picked up on their way over were the only bottles in sight. The place looked lived in for sure, but more homely than ever before. A level of comfort in new furnishings and the room had been modernised slightly too with a large flat screen HD TV sitting along one wall on a unit with a blu ray and DVD player. 

 

“You made Plinkett upgrade?” Mike couldn't say why he was expecting it to be the same old place, Jay did live here and he wouldn't have been able to deal with just the battered old VCR and the shitty TV. 

 

Jay laughed. “Yeah, it seemed kind of pointless to scam money out of my own account.”

 

“Huh. So where is the old ball and chain?”

 

Jay shrugged. “Harry met a bunch of people while we were away and strangely they live pretty locally. They bonded over some old, lost civilisation. I dunno, I left him to it.” There was a fond smile and warmth when he spoke about his husband. Mike felt a prickle of discomfort though shook it off as he joined Jay on the brand new large red couch.

 

Other than the setting occasionally catching Mike off guard, the pair had a good time. Mike pleased to have Jay laughing at his shitty jokes was finally feeling relaxed after his sixth or maybe seventh beer, watching the smaller man clutching his stomach as he scrunched into himself giggling. He was glad that they could still spend time together away from the shop and not get sick of one another, the two weeks he spent without Jay around were far too long and isolating for him to want to spend anymore time alone.

 

“Honey, I'm home!” Came the familiar diabetic slur of old Plinkett. Jay sobered and met his husband with a kiss. Even Plinkett seemed better for the recent vacation, he looked brighter and more spry. 

 

“Hey baby,” There were the cutesy eyes again. Mike felt a deep shudder run down his spine at the pair's embrace. “Mike and I were just watching some action schlock. Would you like to join us?”

 

“No, no. You two have fun, I'm going to hit the can then head to bed.” Plinkett winked at the younger man, a deep lecherous smirk on his ugly face. “Don't forget to wake me when you come so I can make you come again. Rrrrr...” 

 

Plinkett went so far as to smack Jay's arse on his way through the room. Jay's face was flushed an embarrassed red when he turned back to the couch, no able to meet Mike's eye.

 

“Well that was gross.” Mike's stomach was turning again.

 

“Sorry.” Jay shrugged, “he can be pretty shameless.”

 

Mike couldn’t help the disgusted face he pulled, though Jay appeared too embarrassed to get pissed with him. Instead he cleared his throat.

 

“So, I've had an idea about getting some more money.” That caught Mike’s attention and Jay was happy to take his silence as interest. “Harry's friends are all kinda old and dumb, we can definitely get in there and get a shit tonne of cash from them.”

 

From there it doesn't take too long for them to hatch up some plans. Plinkett would become an accomplice rather than their victim. Mike had been cynical as to weather he'd help them fleece his friends but Jay just scoffed and told him that Harry would do anything for him and if he said that they needed more work to come their way then he'd get something in return. The way his ears burned a deep red left Mike with little desire to delve too deeply in that particular cess pool and the bone deep feeling of awkwardness returned to Mike. His stomach lurched and he knew he needed to get out of there.

 

“We can hash out the details tomorrow.” He stumbled to his feet, his head light. “I'll leave you to your night.”

 

“Sure?” Jay was looking up at him, concern radiating from him. “You ok?”

 

“What? Yeah of course.” He tried to make a smile appear out if somewhere but it mustn't have looked all too convincing as Jay quickly sprung up and reached a hand out to him. He only just managed to step back out of reach and waved a hand behind him as he rushed to the door. “It's been a long day, good night.”

 

The door slammed a little louder than he had planned on his was out but only once the cold Milwaukee air hit him did his panic subside. He didn't know what had gotten under his skin but as he slammed his own apartment door shut and leant heavily against the wood, his head felt as clear as day once again. It must have been the booze. He was getting old.

 

Shaking his head and fussing himself with getting ready for bed he tried to come up with some excuse to offer Jay tomorrow.

 

_Bleep ___

____

____

 

**I'm sorry if you felt uncomfortable. I shouldn't have put you in that position. Sorry for being an asshole. ******

********

********

 

**Don't worry about it. I'll get used to it, it's not your fault.**

Mike typed, glad he didn't have to come up with some shitty reason, he was more than happy to allow Jay to provide his get out of jail free card. 

********

********** **

********** **

**Ok, if you're sure. G'night Mike :) ******


	2. Waiting on the Doorstep

The cold weather had abated slightly the next morning and it was with a light step that Mike wandered into the shop the next morning. To his surprise he actually made it in before Jay for the first time in... well actually ever. Plopping himself down into his normal seat, Mike busied himself with checking Rotten Tomato scores for the month's new releases.

 

It was nearly an hour later when Jay rushed through the door, apologies spilling from his mouth as he struggled to both sit down and take his coat off. Mike couldn't help but laugh as Jay became tangled and stuck.

 

Jay glared at Mike through blood shot, black ringed eyes. His hair wasn't the usual neat wave, his clothes rumpled and creased. Jay was the very epitome of overslept and late. And Mike couldn't help himself but prod the sleepy bear.

 

“Late night, Susan?”

 

“Fuck you.” Mike scoffed, Jay managing to extricate himself from his jacket, leaving it to drop to the floor with a feeble stare. “Asshole.”

 

It was this way that they started the day, Mike got some laughs and smiles from Jay but the usually cheerful man was sluggish throughout the afternoon, no matter how much coffee he seemed to guzzle down.

 

“Are you gonna be ok?” Mike asked after Jay yawned for the fifth time that hour. The man looked sheepish.

 

“Sorry, I've just not been sleeping too well.” He rubbed at his eyes and down his face. “I'll be fine.”

 

Mike raised a brow but didn’t push it, it wasn't the first time one if them was a little worse for wear and it was hardly like they were doing any work. He popped the cap from another bottle of beer and even allowed Jay a nap in the late afternoon as he watched some Ghost Adventures.

 

Mike was happy to allow for a bad day here and there but after Jay stumbled through the door running late and exhausted for the third day in a row did Mike get concerned. 

 

“What the fuck is going, Jay? You look like shit.”

 

“Oh thanks very much.” 

 

Jay looked ruined, his tan had long since faded and he was now a dreadful shade of pale. His hair was lank, his beard wispy and unkempt. Mike hadn't seen him eat much and he was certain he hadn't touched more than a couple of beers in all the time he'd been back from his honeymoon. 

 

“You look like you're running on fumes,” Mike pressed. “There's not anything wrong is there?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Y'know, trouble in paradise?” Mike overplayed it to get the laugh from Jay but there was genuine concern underneath it all.

 

“Oh shut up,” Jay did smile. “Everything is fine, it's just quite full on, y'know.”

 

Mike pulled a face, concern growing. “Tell Plinkett to give you some space, you need sleep.”

 

“Urgh, Mike please. It's fine, I must be coming down with something.” He rubbed his hands down his face. “I feel awful.”

 

“Well you are sleeping with Plinkett." 

 

Jay laughed at Mike's expression. “You're kind of obsessed there Mike, let it go.”

 

Mike puts his hands up. “Alright, alright. Fine. I'll leave it. Just checking you're ok.”

 

Jay smiled softly at him, his mess of hair and scruffy look did something strange to Mike's stomach. “I'll be fine you asshole, let's just go watch a movie.”

 

***

 

“Lightening Fast VCR Repair, this is Mike.” It was just creeping past 11am and Jay was still nowhere to be seen.

 

“Oh, hi there.” A croaky, feminine voice came across the phone line. Mike could virtually hear the phlegm. “Is this the same Lightening Fast that Jay Plinkett works at?”

 

Jay Plinkett. Urgh, that was just wrong. “Uh, yes ma'am it is.”

 

“Oh good, that sweet boy said he could help me with my VCR.” Oh, one of Plinkett's friends. 

 

“Well, sorry ma'am he isn't available at the moment.” Mike was getting pissed off with his tardiness. “I can get him to call you back when he's here.”

 

“Oh,” The broad's distinct displeasure soaked through the single syllable. “I was really hoping it could get fixed today. I promised him $500 an hour to get it done. Could you do it, dear?”

 

Five hundred bucks an hour? That was pretty sweet money. He could go for a few hours, tell her he needed a part before coming back to the shop and grabbing Jay. 

 

“Sure, I can come over and have a look.” The money already creeping into his veins. “Give me your address and I'll be right over.”

 

The old lady's place was pretty swanky. High ceilings and wooden panels, old cast iron chandeliers and more goddamn lace and floral patterns than he had ever seen before. It was dusty and had a neglected feeling to it.

 

The old lady who had opened the door was a short, squat woman. Her hair an deep steel grey and one of her eyes was a clouded milky white. She was wearing a heavy woollen dress and as she ushered him into her living area the dank smell of stale urine hit his nose. 

 

Mike suddenly questioned whether the money was worth it. 

 

“There it is, dear. I hope you can fix it.” Her smoky voice droned on, monotonous and dreary. “Would you like some lemonade or something? What did you say your name was?”

 

“Uh, Mike and no thank you, I brought some refreshments with me.” The six pack at his side was begging to be drank and he sat himself on a velour futon close to the decrepit TV stand.

 

The lady fussed about around the place as Mike popped the cap off his first beer and busied himself with checking over the machine. The power outlet was fried and the head needed cleaning. It would take roughly twenty minutes. He sighed and took a deep sip from his beer, he was going to have to look busy to make any good money.

 

“How's it looking, Philip?” The old hag asked as she peered around the door.

 

“Philip? No, my name is Mike.” The lady didn't show any sign of giving a shit and instead came to sit behind him on one of the large chintzes couches. “It's not in a good state, I might have to get a part from the shop.”

 

“Oh, no.” She shrugged on a shawl and held it tightly in a arthritic fist. “Can you do anything? I've just gotten this VHS tape about an ancient civilisation that used totems to collect the life force of their loved ones to grant them youth.”

 

Her face scrunched up into a weird smush of wrinkled skin and rheumy eyes. The old bitch was practically vibrating with excitement and the fresh stench of piss did little to help with Mike's turning stomach.

 

“Right, well I'll do what I can so you can watch your weirdo tape in no time.”

 

Mike downed his beer and fussed about with his toolbox for a while until he heard the tell tale snuffle of a sleeping geriatric. 

 

“Oh thank god.” He cracked open another beer and pulled up Netflix on his phone, taking a deep pull from the bottle. 

 

He was half way through another shitty movie about a haunted doll house when his phone buzzed.

 

**I'm so sorry mike. Want me to help? ******

 

**No, I’ll be back soon. ******  


Mike couldn't help his irritation, this had been Jay's stupid idea and he wasn't even here to suffer through the boredom and pissy mould of this horrible place. He checked the time before shoving his phone in his pocket. He'd been here long enough to have made some money at least but he wasn't happy about it.   
  
  
Mike finished his bottle and clanked it down with the rest. He leant forward and towards the power cable from the busted VCR and replaced it. It wasn't a very good job, but it's not like he gave a shit. Stretching his back out from his slouched position, he kicked his toolbox closed, ensuring he made enough noise to wake the woman up.   
  
  
“Are you done already?”   
  
  
“Yup, it should work fine now.” He answered, leaving the bottles where they had fallen and gathering his stuff up. “You owe me $3,000.”   
  
  
“Oh, right.” The woman wiggled in her seat and managed to get herself on to her doddering feet and scurried over to a tall glass cabinet. Pulling out a wad of bills, she carefully counted out enough for Mike before placing the still sizable wedge back in.   
  
  
“Here you go Philip.” She handed over the cash and Mike shot out of the musty, musky hell hole and into the crisp freshness of Milwaukee. Only once the cold air had cleared his pipes and he could think clearly did he think back to the hunk of cash.   
  
  
Huh. That was a lot of money. Good thing the stupid power cable would break again in the near future, if this old sow slept so much, they could spin quite a few visits. Mike just needed to remember to bring some air freshener next time. And Jay. Jay would have to suffer too, he couldn't believe that he'd let him down like this and he was getting irritated all over again.   
  
  
Mike flew through the door, letting it slam shut after him. “What the fuck are you playing at, Jay?!”   
  
  
The man in question was hunched over the counter, his head buried in his arms, but jerked up with the noise. His hair was up on end, his face pale and pasty, deep bruises where his eyes drooped. He clearly hadn't gotten any more sleep and by the sight of him hadn't been eating either.   
  
  
“God, I'm sorry Mike.” His voice was hoarse and raspy. “I couldn't wake up, I don't know what's going on, I think I'm sick.”   
  
  
Mike couldn't exactly argue, he looked terrible. The ire had dissipated almost entirely as quickly as it has enraged him. Jay looked ruined and the very tiny amount of compassion that Mike had in him burned his chest in something he supposed must be sympathy.   
  
  
“It's fine,” He waved Jay's apology away. “You didn't exactly miss much, the old broad did nothing but piss herself and talk about life forces.”   
  
  
“With Patrick Stewart and space vampires?” Jay quirked a small smile.   
  
  
“God, I wish.” Mike returned the smile as he hopped up on the chair next to Jay. “No, I think she was seriously talking about totems and life force bull shit.”   
  
  
“Uhuh, and ghosts and ghouls too?” Jay croaked a laugh and Mike mock glared at him but Jay didn't take the bait and seemed to run out of any steam. He physically seemed to wilt in his seat.   
  
  
“Come on, Jay.” Mike motioned for him to get up. “Let's get you home, you look like shit. There's no point in you staying here.”   
  
  
Jay half shrugged and slipped off the chair on unsteady feet. Slowly, painfully slowly, Mike got Jay out and away from the shop. He was utterly in a daze and by the time they reached Plinkett's, Mike had had to guide him with him clutching his arm.   
  
  
Mike opened the door, Jay all but slumped into his side as he walked him across the threshold.   
  
  
“Jay, you don't have to come into work tomorrow if you're still feeling shitty.” Jay frowned, his eyes unfocused an bleary. Before his head flopped down. “I'll swing by on my way in and see how you're doing in the morning.”   
  
  
“Thanks Mike.” A mumbled slur came from against his shoulder as Mike walked him across the room and gently pushed him onto the large couch. “I might be ok. Hope I'm ok.”   
  
  
Mike frowned down at the prone man, who had immediately curled into himself to sleep before leaving the house as quietly as he found it.   
  
  
***   
  
  
Mike knocked loudly on Plinkett's door the next morning. It didn't take long for the old man to answer, a smile across his fat face.   
  
  
“Oh hey there, Mike.” His usual slur was a little less pronounced and he was standing straighter. It would be just like Jay to ensure Plinkett was taking all his medications yet driving himself into the ground. “Jay's not going to make it in today. Poor guy is still out for the count.”   
  
  
“Oh, Ok.” Mike turned to leave before he stopped himself short. “Do you uh, do you know what's going on with him?”   
  
  
“I don't know,” Plinkett shrugged, a sly grin on his face. “We've been having a lot of unprotected sex though and I haven't had an STD check since 1942. It's probably come kind of horrible dirty sex disease.”   
  
  
“Right.” Disgusted Mike turned away again, much quicker and with a vague feeling of never turning up at that house or seeing Plinkett or even Jay ever again. Just disgusting.   
  
  
Trying to put it out of his head Mike instead carried on to work, only stopping once more to pick up some microwavable pizzas and beers from the 7/11 down the street. He still managed to make it to the shop a little after noon.   
  
  
Mike sighed deeply, not really looking forward to another arduous day without Jay. The little shit better be feeling well soon or Mike might die of boredom.   
  
  
_Bleep. ___  
  
  


____Mike scowled at where it lay on the other side of the table from where he was bent over heavily onto his arms.  
  
  
**The web of destiny carries your blood and soul back to the genesis of my lifeform. ******  
  
  


____********Mike wracked his brain, it was a line from Life Force but what the fuck did it mean him now? He tapped the phone icon to call the man but weirdly it just rang out. Fucking feverish bastard. Only Jay would quote shitty movies while his brain was on fire. Shaking his head, Mike went back to leaning, grabbing a beer and flicking through Netflix for something to do.  
  
  
***   
  
  
_Bleep-bleep. Bleep-bleep. Bleep-bleep. ___  
  
  
**Incoming Call – Jay ****  
  
  
**

_**____**_********“Hello?”  
  
  
“Mike!” Jay shouted, husky and frantic. “You should come and get me Mike. It's dangerous, there's nearly no more time left! There's a stone and it's taking everything away.”   
  
  
“What are you talking about, Jay?”   
  
  
“There's something wrong!” His voice shrank to an urgent whisper. “Everything is weird and it's not good. The statue, it's going to ruin everything and I can't do anything. It's going to take my life force”   
  
  
Jay was rambling and it wasn't making a lick of sense to Mike. He'd heard drunken story Jay and tired nonsense Jay but this frantic babbling was quite weird.   
  
  
“Jay? Jay!”   
  
  
“What?”   
  
  
“Take a breath for me buddy, you're not making any sense right now.”   
  
  
The line went quiet and he heard a deep huff of breath and a strangled gulp.   
  
  
“Wait, n-"   
  
  
“Sorry, is that Mike?” Plinkett's rough voice took over the phone.   
  
  
“Plinkett?”   
  
  
“Yeah, Jay's off his tits on Nyquil. He's been talking nonsense for the past three hours.”   
  
  
“Oh.”   
  
  
“Yeah, so I wouldn't pay any attention to any occult mysticism he might have been blabbering about.”   
  
  
“Ok, that seems fair.” The relief washed through him as he hung up the phone. “Totally fair, Jay wouldn't just be calling me to tell some weird story about statues and life forces”.   
  
  
Wait. Life forces and statues... just what that old coot was saying. The old coot who was friends with Plinkett. Plinkett who met them all because of some fucked up cult they were all into.   
  
  
A cold tickle of suspicion tugged at his brainstem. Something was weird and wrong. Well, shit. Jay might be in actual real danger. And Mike was the only one who could help.   
  
  
Shit, what the fuck was he going to do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Titles come from the album Smile that Won't Go Down by Filthy Boy. 
> 
> A sort of inspiration.


	3. Spiral Eyes

  
It was pitch black outside, tobacco smoke hung low and thick in the air. Mike hadn't much moved from his spot and he hadn't any idea how long he'd been trying to come up with one plan or another. The counter in front of him was strewn with screwed up paper, empty bottles and an empty pack and a half of cigarettes and he still had no goddamn idea what he was going to do.  
  
  
**Incoming call – Jay ******

  
  
  
“Hello?”  
  
  
There was nothing but a breathy hush on the other end. “Mike... help.”  
  
  
The line went dead. Mike’s heart went cold. He would just have to get over to Plinkett's, flying by the seat of his pants and kind of scared as to what he'd find.  
  
  
The streets were quiet, the houses dark as the city seemed to sleep. It was eerie. The air was clear and sharp and seemed to grow colder the closer he got to his destination. The old house loomed above him; the paintwork distressed and peeling, shabby and neglected.  
  
  
There was a light on somewhere in the run down house but when Mike knocked as he entered there wasn’t a noise to be heard and no sign of Jay. Worry mounting, he slowly crept across the main room and began looking for the smaller man. Mike comes to a weird realisation that the house was bigger than he'd really bothered to know before, even with all their whacky adventures in it there seemed to be a whole selection of rooms he had never seen before.  
  
  
Mike quickened his pace as he raced from one darkened room to the next. The silence that pervaded each desolate room was more than worrying. He came to a rest at the bottom of the stairs having checked the upstairs bedrooms and finding nothing or no one. He tried to catch his breath and get his heart to stop thrashing around in his chest so much, he felt like he was going to have a goddamn heart attack.  
  
  
From the corner of his eye there was a closet door that stood ajar, the faintest whisper of light seeping from its opened edges which drew Mike to it. Slowly and cautiously. Widened the gap to peer inside, Mike found the wonky outline of what appeared to be shoddy plywood. Plywood that, when Mike gently pushed against it, creaked and swung open.  
  
  
A secret goddamn door leading to a secret goddamn basement room. These things never ended with a happy scenario in the movies and Mike doubted that Jay was going to be fine and dandy once he found him. If he found him.  
  
  
Creepiness sets in to his bones as he sneaked his way down the steps, crudely constructed and rickety. At the bottom there appeared to be a warren of small rooms, all low light and looking more and more like something from a Eli Roth movie. Coming to the first of the bigger antechambers he is greeted by something that made his blood run even colder.  
  
  
Set up across a workbench made from heavy wood, lay a deep red moth-eaten, velvet sheet. Atop that were a whole bunch of photos, phials of different coloured goo Mike didn't even want to think about what and locks of familiar coloured hair. Stealing himself a moment, Mike reached out a hesitant hand and flicked through a few of the pictures.  
  
  
It was a series of pictures of Jay, some dating back a fair few years, some which were clearly from their honeymoon. Mike felt disgusted, they were all taken in some weird candid way that made him nauseous that his friend wasn't aware that this was going on. He had to tear his eyes away from the more... intimate photos and he quickly caught enough of an impression to throw the stack back against the shrine. He really hadn't needed to know what was in those phials. Or how it all got there.  
  
  
What the fuck was Plinkett playing at? They had always known that he was a little fucking weird and perverse but Mike mostly just thought he was a pathetic loser. He hadn't thought he had been capable of this kind of shit.  
  
  
Backing away from the shrine with acid rising within him, he continued down the rabbit hole and twisted into the next bleak room. The ceiling becoming so low, he had to stoop to avoid hitting his head. The whole place had a wonderful claustrophobic feeling that really wasn't helping the unease and the fear that something truly awful had happened to Jay.  
  
  
The next room was a long, dim oblong, scratchings and etchings embedded the walls in frantic strokes. Mike couldn't read any of them, none familiar to him though he kinda got the feeling that they weren't good, happy things. The ceiling dipped again and Mike slouched forward to make it through the room, the uneven cemented floor scuffed his feet and made him trip and stumble several times.  
  
  
He had to fling his arms out to stop himself from face planting the grubby floor, his knuckles grazed the rough walls and he felt the skin break against the cold air. Great, he probably had hepatitis to worry about now too, he scowled as he caught his balance before taking a breath and continuing on.  
  
  
There was a low noise coming from the other end of the room; a stained, ragged curtain hung unceremoniously across from him and Mike carefully made his way to it. He raised a hand to sweep it aside, then thought again and tugged his jacket over his hand to shove through the curtain. He was definitely gonna catch something down here, hell to fucking Plinkett if he got AIDs from this dump.  
  
  
The sight in the next room nearly made Mike puke. There was another whole bunch of weird ass symbols and statues dotted around the dark and decrepit, stuffy chamber. A low humming was coming from one corner but what made Mike start forward into an awkward lurch was the figure of Jay, laying splayed against a wall, held in place by thick cords of rope.  
  
  
“Jay?” Mike's voice was less than a whimper as he reached for the man. He was shirtless, his skin sallow with a thin sheen of sweat. His small frame seemed even more minute with his ribs protruding and jeans slung low on his hips. Rushing to his side, Mike tried to find the best way to get Jay out of the ropes that bind him. And tried to not see how deeply they had been pinching at the skin beneath, nor the dark purple blotch that was stained against his cheek.  
  
  
“Well, hello there Mike.” Came a deep, rumbling voice from the corner. Mike wheeled around.  
  
  
“Plinkett?!”  
  
  
The man that stepped out from the shadows was a far damn cry from the senile asshole they had been scamming for years. His usual slumped shoulders straight and broad, the twisted spine and arthritic legs stood tall and supple. The eyes shone brightly without the cataracts and atop his head, gone was the cap and in its stead was flowing locks of thick, lustrous dark hair.  
  
  
“Oh by goooood!” He yelled, his hands clamping against his cheeks in sheer frigging confusion. “What the fuck is going on?! What the fuck have you done?!”  
  
  
Plinkett just stood there and laughed, a cackling evil goddamn laugh at Mike's stammered questions, as he rubbed his hands together like some kind of Bond villain.  
  
  
“Oh Mike, Mike, Mike, Mike, Mike.” Plinkett had a sly grin on his face as he paced across the room in front of him. A stray wind from somewhere tousled his hair slightly. “You have no idea what you're getting yourself into.”  
  
  
“No shit.”  
  
  
“You'll know soon ,” another grin and his beady eyes lit up with some sort of perverted glee. “I took a real shine to Jay, once he cleaned himself up. He made me realise that it was possible to look after yourself and look younger, hotter and far more sexy than before.”  
  
  
Mike then had the horrible feeling that he wouldn't be able to get Jay out of the god forsaken basement without listening to Plinkett’s boring grand scheme. “Oh god, just get to the point already.”  
  
  
He chuckled again and gestured to the man held against the wall. “I knew I wanted him but I didn't know how to get him. It took some planning and nearly seven years but I finally got it perfect. I saw a great opportunity to get back some former glory and enjoy myself whilst I was at it.”  
  
  
“Seven years?” Mike was amazed, how the hell had they not realised his crazy ass plans.  
  
  
“Oh yeah,” He licked his lips, turning Mike's stomach further. “Didn't you ever wonder why I'd keep you employed when you’d both tried to kill me several times. Why I'd pay you a fuck tonne of money for fixing my VCR when VHS tapes are a completely obsolete and inferior media.”  
  
  
Mike had never seen Plinkett make so much sense before. Had the old coot always been this on the ball? Mike couldn't imagine so but now he had the horrible feeling that he and Jay had been played like puppets. Fucking goddamnit.  
  
  
“You know, I even watched Night Court on DVD the other year and it does not stand up. It was very disappointing.”  
  
  
“What?!” Mike was even more shocked, after all that time of trying to watch that fucking thing and he'd fucking seen the thing and realised how shit it was?  
  
  
“Really, it was when we were down at the bottom of Lake Michigan that it all made sense to me. A book washed into the house and I was going to use it to wipe my ass with but instead it was so much more useful.”  
  
  
A sickening low chuckle came from the man who had turned away and was now running his hand across a heavy, ancient looking porcelain statue in the shape of an Adonis type figure clad only in a flowing shawl.  
  
  
“There’s this idea from the ancient Samarians about the power of transformation and rejuvenation. Using the soul of a younger, more supple body could imbue you with the essence of that soul. It's a shame that it means that Jay will eventually die but I've at least had my fun with him first.”  
  
  
“You know what, you're just as bad as I am. Without you this whole thing wouldn't have happened.” The grin widened and Mike felt irritation burn through him. How he could have been anywhere near as fucked up as Plinkett was, was baffling.  
  
  
“The Samarians believe that this kinda ritual can only be entered into mutually. I was going to try and get around that by sleeping with him.” Plinkett was running his hand absently through his hair, a wistful smile across his fat face. “Then you came in with your schemes and your gay pheromones and suddenly we were going to be married.”  
  
  
“But you said that those pheromones didn't work?”  
  
  
“They wouldn't have done. Not on their own.” He swept a hand along the runes behind him. “But with these babies, they were like gasoline on the hot fire of my loins.”  
  
  
Huh. Well whatdya know, the gay pheromones weren't just a sack of horseshit after all. He'd have to give that kooky china-man from the internet a good review after all.  
  
  
The need to gloat was cut short though by a slight groan and movement from the prone man beside him. Mike gently lay a hand on his shoulder as he lifted his head and gazed around with glazed eyes.  
  
  
“Mike?” He uttered, his voice as bitten and chapped as his lips. If Mike had though he looked like shit before, it was more so now tenfold.  
  
  
“It's ok, Jay.” Mike told him, a horrid illness burnt low in his stomach. “I'm going to get you out of here.”  
  
  
“Don't worry about him, Mike.” Plinkett said, grinning as he peered the pair. “The rituals tend to wipe him out and now we're getting close to the end, it takes more out of him. You can hang around and watch if you like. I've been told it's pretty hot action.”  
  
  
Vomit rose and Mike had to take several deep breaths to steal himself, trying to forget how complicit he had been to the whole thing. He caught Jay's eye and hot anger quickly replaced cold repulsion and he clenched his fists against the ropes around Jay.  
  
  
Plinkett was muttering away to himself, stroking once again at the statue that he held cradled in his arms as he travelled across the room. The cloying stench of incense wafted through the room, a tingling of small symbols and bells echoed off the bare walls. Plinkett's murmuring prattled on and Mike jumped into action, tugging and clawing at the knots that held Jay up.  
  
  
It took several minutes longer than Mike had hoped but eventually he managed to get Jay down, laying him as carefully as possible on the ground, more than aware of how fragile to smaller man was.  
  
  
The bells and symbols continued to tinkle and ring but Plinkett's yammering had ceased.  
  
  
“Now Mike,” Plinkett growled at him, stood close and drawn up to his full height. “I hope you don't think I'm going to let you leave now.”  
  
  
Rage engulfed Mike once again. Jay had lost consciousness again at his feet, his sickly pallor making him look far too close to a corpse. Clenching his fist tightly, Mike threw it into Plinkett's face as hard as he could.  
  
  
The man went down like a sack of shit and although pain erupted across his knuckles, the crack he heard from Plinkett's face and the blood that poured down his face was elation for Mike. The old man was out cold on his back with his creepy fucking statue resting against his chest.  
  
  
Jay moaned and Mike quickly bent to his side, running a hand across his forehead. He was burning up something fierce. As quickly as he could Mike stripped off his jacket and carefully swaddled it around Jay's bare shoulders before he picked him up and carried him, past the ragged curtain and cautiously back through the cramped warren of rooms. His elbows and hands scratching against the rough walls but Mike didn't slow his steady pace until he had cleared the ad hock steps.  
  
  
Crashing out of the front door and into the cold dawn air of Milwaukee, Mike was glad to get out of the sweaty basement and took some deep steadying breaths as he cradled Jay closer to his chest. He looked like a wax doll bundled up in his oversized jacket. Shifting the weight in his arms slightly, Mike turned in the direction of his crummy apartment and hoped to fuck Jay was going to be ok.  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slight wait.
> 
> This chapter has been quite a struggle. I hope that the "action" is exciting enough and the narrative voice is still ... Mike enough.
> 
> Now, hopefully onwards and upwards...
> 
> Thanks for the kind comments and kudos. They really got this and me back on track, so thank you!


End file.
